Note: Part of this chapter (i.e. the flashback to 'a few months earlier') sets the background for this story by summarising events from the longer story StarFire.

Chapter 1. As Bad as Bad Might Be

~ S.R. 1434, late Autumn, during the first year when Peregrin I was Thain ~ 

'Don't say it,' Ferdibrand warned. 

'It could be worse,' Pippin said, paying no heed to his cousin's staying hand. 

Ferdi nearly jumped out of his skin. 'Bite your tongue, Cousin!' 

Pippin eyed him wearily. 'Very well,' he said. 'If you insist... It's about as bad as bad can be.' 

...placing Ferdi in the unenviable position of having to go against his deepest-held principles, and say that things were not as bad as bad might be, admitting that they could be worse. Which was a sentiment that he never allowed to cross his lips, knowing all too well the potential consequences of such careless speech. 'Pip,' he said, and stopped, at a loss. 

His younger cousin sighed and then seemed to take pity on the older cousin. 'It's not as if we won't survive this situation,' he said, as he had so many times before this moment. And then he shook his head and said, 'No. That came out wrong. What I mean to say is, though we may not come out of this, the Tooks will survive, and with them, the Tookland.' 

'The Tookland,' Ferdi said slowly. He'd nearly given his life to protect his homeland in the time of the Troubles and the Battle of Bywater, and Thain Peregrin knew that quite well. 

'Well of course,' Pippin said, as he always did when this particular topic came up. 'She's been through worse, after all. Even stood against Lotho's campaign to bring the entire Shire under his thumb, and all of Saruman's machinations after him. Come to think on it, Saruman didn't want any such trifling thing as mere domination – he meant to see the Shire in ruins, the sky and streams fouled, the Shire-folk crawling in the dust, starving slowly to death...' 

It could be worse...

*** 

~ a few months earlier ~ 

The new Thain was determined to announce to the Tooks, the Tooklanders, indeed, to the entire Shire that the treasure store of the Thain was gone. 

Pippin's mad scheme to continue Thain Paladin's solution to the Tooks' financial straits had evaporated in the face of harsh realities. From the time he became Thain, advised to act as if the Thain's treasure store had not disappeared under old Lalia or her son Ferumbras, Paladin had scraped and saved and built up opportunities to take in coin: pony and livestock sales, pony races and the annual all-Shire archery tournament chief among them. Tookish ponies always did well in the annual Tookland Race and the All-Shire Race that followed a month later, and Paladin had somehow established the custom that – in addition to Tookland taking half the entry money and dividing the other half amongst the winners' purses – owners would pay half their winnings for the privilege and prestige of running their ponies under Tookland's green-and-gold colours. 

The purses went a long way towards paying various expenses at the Great Smials. It helped that Paladin had cut wages when he'd discovered the gold was gone, publicly blaming Lalia's extravagance for his own cost-cutting measures. Moreover, many Tooklanders had been persuaded to work for bed and board and no wages at all during the Troubles. Pippin's father had reinstated wages after the Troubles ended, but kept them low. The Tooks, seeing as how he'd kept the ruffians out of the Tookland, might have grumbled, but no one openly complained. 

Pippin, coming into this difficult inheritance, had thought to win the first-place purse in the All-Shire race with one of his own ponies, taking not the Thain's customary half but all the winnings on behalf of the Tookland. He was also certain that Tookland's entries in the race were fast enough to take first and another place against the fastest of all four Farthings, and Buckland into the bargain. Thus, he anticipated Tookish ponies winning first place and fourth, at least, if not better. The purses would be overall fatter, too, because this was an election year, and many Shire-folk would be flocking to Michel Delving for the election along with the annual Pony Race. 

Yes, Pippin had been confident of his chances that the Tookish entries might finish high in the race standings. 

As they had! Starfire, the Thain's fiery gift from Éomer, King of Rohan, had easily swept past all the other contenders, including the best that Buckland had to offer, and finished first. One of Merry's ponies had finished second. Pippin's favourite, Socks, had taken third place, presenting quite a respectable showing for the ageing pony. 

...but all three ponies, Tookish and Bucklander, had been disqualified by the Master of the Races and the Race Committee, on account of an obscure Rule that had been put in place in the days of Bandobras Took. There would be no prize money from the races to bring Tookland through to harvest time. To add worse to worry, what with the drought, there was no counting on selling extra from the harvest to hobbits in the other Farthings to pay Tookland's expenses through to the following year, either. As it was looking, there'd be barely enough harvested in the Tookland this year to feed the Tooklanders. 

As his doom came crashing down all around him, Pippin had found no peace after retreating to the sitting room of the private suite reserved for the Thain. A knock had sounded at the door, and soon after, the rest of the hobbits concerned with the outcome of the Race had filed into the room. As Merry haltingly explained the official outcome of the race, destroying all of Pippin's carefully constructed plans, the young Thain looked from the faces of his race riders, Ferdi and Hilly, to those of Merry's riders, to his steward Regi's grim expression, to Sam, to Merry and Estella, and lastly, to the Master of the Races, who to his credit looked sympathetic – but unyielding. 

He felt Diamond's hand on his arm then, warm, solid, anchoring him to the present moment, even in this room that felt too full of hobbits, with not enough air for the breathing. 

The Thain found himself wondering, and not for the first time since the Tooks had reluctantly confirmed the Succession, what Strider would say if his young knight of Gondor should suddenly show up, with Diamond and Farry in tow, before the Gate of Minas Tirith and ask to be taken in. Permanently. 

Setting all temptation aside, all he could do now, in the face of complete ruin – his own and his homeland's – was straighten in his chair as he tried to catch his breath. 

Merry's worry was obvious despite his best efforts to maintain a neutral expression, and Samwise, from his expression, was downright miserable. This will never do, Pippin scolded himself. Why, Sam should be celebrating his re-election as Mayor of the Shire, not dealing with thorny issues – such as the winner (or not) of the All-Shire Race and the possible repercussions for an old friend and fellow Traveller. 

Thus, the young Thain sought to do his best to retrieve the situation. 'Very well, Regi,' he said evenly, moving his gaze to meet the Steward's eyes. 'We must give back not only the third-place purse but the winner's purse as well. See to it, will you?' 

'Yes, Sir,' Regi said quietly, and turned to the others. 'Was there any other business?' he barked. 

There were shakings of heads and murmured repetition of No on the part of the rest of the hobbits in the sitting room. Merry waved his riders from the room, telling them he'd be along later. The Master of the Races bowed to both Thain and Master and departed, followed by Reginard, Hilly and Ferdi. Last of all the intruders that Hildibold had reluctantly allowed to enter the suite, Sam stood hesitating. 

'Samwise, will you join us in a brandy?' Diamond said, rising from her seat. 

'No, thank you, ma'am,' the Mayor said hastily, putting up a staying hand. 'I left Rose wondering, and...' He stumbled over the words, for though he seemed to have a good word for almost every occasion, there didn't seem to be any good words to be found in this moment. Thus, he nodded to Merry, then to Pippin, gave an awkward bow, and took his leave. 

Merry and Estella stayed for brandy – they had supplied the brandy for the post-Race celebration, after all, so that Diamond felt obliged to press them to take at least one glass. The conversation was awkward and halting, confined for the most part to the weather, a relatively safe topic so long as the prospect of a poor harvest was not mentioned. Refusing a second glass and not inclined to linger as they might in usual circumstances, the Master and Mistress of Buckland finished their brandy and rose, for it would soon be time for the fireworks. Protocol and tradition demanded that the Master of Buckland must stand by the Mayor's side to receive the cheers of the crowd since he'd provided the entertainment. Never mind that it was the last thing the Brandybuck wanted to do at the moment. 

Merry hesitated. 'Pippin?' he said. 'Is there anything...?' He wasn't quite sure what to ask. Pippin did not look as well as he had when he'd left Buckland to take up the reins of the Tookland and the rest of the Shire. He's definitely thinner, Merry thought to himself. Though he had tried to keep his glances casual, he had clearly seen in their interactions over the course of the day that Pippin had less colour and life, less energy, less... 

'Nothing!' Pippin said firmly, rising to take his cousin's arm. As he escorted Merry to the door, he said heartily, 'All is well! I suppose they'll be talking about this race for years to come! Think of the entertainment we've furnished the hobbits of the Shire!' 

There was no use asking for Merry's help in the current crisis; if word got out that Brandybuck gold had been used to dig the Thain out of the present hole he was in, there'd be a scandal of monumental proportions. Pippin's fitness to be Thain would be questioned (as if it weren't already), and the Tookland might be cast into even more turmoil than that from which the young Took was trying to rescue his homeland in the first place. 

'I've got a cloud-cake in the oven,' he said obliquely, 'and if you open the door to check it'll fall flat and come to nothing, you know.' 

Merry nodded, his unhappiness plain on his face. Pippin could almost read his thoughts. The younger cousin was on his own, thrown into the River to sink or swim, to use an old Buckland proverb. If Merry rescued him from whatever trouble he was in now, Pippin might never be accepted as Thain in his own right. He'd always be looked upon as the younger cousin needing rescuing by an older and wiser head. 'Let me know how it comes out,' his Brandybuck cousin now said. 

It was in that moment that Pippin made up his mind. There was nothing for it. His back was against the wall of Caradhras, so to speak, and the snows were mounting, threatening to go over his head, and he could see only one course to follow, wolves, orcs, Balrog, Tooks or any other hazards notwithstanding. 'I'm sure everybody will know, sooner or later,' he said. Merry looked at him sharply, and he found himself stifling a laugh. It's either laugh or cry or curse aloud at this point, he thought to himself.

'You're not going to get yourself in trouble?' the older cousin hissed. 

At this, Pippin gave in to laughter and slapped Merry's back. 'I'm already in a world of trouble, Merry!' he said. 'What's a little more trouble, I ask you?' 

'Pippin?' Merry said, stopping at the door and refusing to go through. 

This would never do. At this rate, Merry was going to come belated to the fireworks, and of course Sam would not be able to begin without him. 'The Tooks agreed to the succession and I became Thain,' Pippin said, pushing his cousin gently out the door. He kissed Estella on the cheek and nodded at her to follow her husband. 'What more trouble could anyone think of?' 

He could see that Merry was reluctant to go, and he nodded again at Estella's backwards look, to express his appreciation as she took Merry's arm, both in support and to urge him along. 

The young Thain sighed as he closed the door behind them, and then he moved to the table and sank down in his chair again, where he poured himself a generous glass of brandy and topped off Diamond's glass. 'I am well,' he lied in answer to his beloved's unspoken query. Of course, she knew him better than that, but together, out of long practice, they both pretended it was the absolute truth. 

Later, in the coach on the way from Michel Delving to Whittacres, his family's farm, to celebrate the outcome of the race (or not, as things had turned out) and Pippin's birthday into the bargain, Pippin shared his newly hatched plans with those closest to him: his mother and his wife. There was no point in discussing the disappearance of Tookland's gold any further than they had already. 'There's naught for it,' he said with a grimace.

'What do you mean?' Eglantine asked, her eyes narrowing. 

Pippin met her gaze directly. 'I won't live a lie,' he said. 'My father did, and it made him hard, cold and bitter. I won't pretend to be the richest hobbit in the Shire, sitting on my hoard.' 

He saw his mother's hands tighten, knuckles whitening, though she was careful not to waken young Faramir, who had been rocked to sleep in her lap by the motion of the coach. 'But they won't listen to you if...' she gasped. 

'If they only listen to me for the gold they think I hoard, then I don't want their ears,' Pippin said, finality in his tone. 'They confirmed the Succession; they made me Thain. I had to swear to do my best by the Tooks and by the Shire-folk, and do my best I shall, but I won't do it with lies.' 

'What are you going to do?' Diamond said, her hand squeezing his in reassurance. Whatever you may decide, you know that I am with you. 

'I'm going to tell the Tooks just how much gold is in the Thain's hoard,' Pippin said. Or how little. 'If they don't believe me, I'll take them to the place and show them.' He sighed as deeply as his ruined lungs would allow and spoke of a few more repercussions, finishing, 'and how the Talk will spread... for the Thain is only as good as his word, you know.' 

Diamond's hand tightened on his. 'We'll get through this,' she said, 'and if worse comes to worst...' 

Pippin began to laugh softly. 

'What is it?' his wife and mother both asked in the same breath. 

'What's the worst they can do?' the young Thain said when he'd got his breath back. 'Turn me off? Find another Thain?' 

*** 

The birthday celebration at the farm was all Diamond might have hoped: laughter, storytelling, song, Pearl's fine cooking, amusement at the children's antics. And, to her relief, all the adult hobbits there – Pearl and Isumbold, Ferdibrand as Pippin's official rider in the All-Shire Race and head of the Thain's escort, Ferdi's father Ferdinand, Hildibold as Pippin's other race-rider and a hobbit of the escort, and Healer Mardibold, ostensibly there to keep an eye on old Ferdinand – all the hobbits there showed both overtly and in subtle ways their support for Pippin in this impossible situation. 

By the time the visit to the farm ended and the time had come to return to the Great Smials and face reality, everyone had talked themselves hoarse, but they'd hammered out some sort of strategy to take the Tookland through the difficult times ahead. 

At least, Diamond hoped as much. Best of all, Pippin had eaten as much as she'd ever seen him eat since the Old Gaffer's Friend had gotten its hooks into him and tried to pull him down into the grave, some years before they'd married. He'd rested, and so had she. Why, he'd even slept through every night without nightmares, leaving Diamond to waken in the morning feeling clear-headed and refreshed. He'd laughed at Isum's sly jibes, revelled in being "just a regular hobbit" and not the Thain of Tookland and all the Shire, not having to watch his every word and even his facial expressions for fear of the Talk he might set off. None of your nonsense now, Pip was one of Regi's oft-quoted admonishments, and for good reason. 

*** 

When it came time to leave, Eglantine was quite put out that for her to ride in comfort from Whittacres to Tuckborough, the coach would have to drive in quite the opposite direction: to Whitwell, then up to Waymoot, through Bywater and eastward nearly to the Brandywine on the Great East Road, down to Stock, turning towards the Great Smials at last on the crumbling Stock Road. Though Isumbold had arranged to take her to Whitwell in the waggon, whence he could hire a pony and driver and comfortable conveyance to take her the rest of the way, she soon put things right. Or at least to her satisfaction. 

Her irritation came to a head as everyone gathered in the yard for farewells. Isumbold, surrounded by children, leaned on his heavy walking stick, all of them ready to sing a farewell song to bless the departure from the farm. Pearl stood holding the ponies hitched to a waggon, for she'd offered to drive her mother to Whitwell. Pippin, with Farry's "help", held Socks and Diamond's gentle mare as they waited to mount. 

Ferdi was already mounted and waiting, for old Ferdinand had shooed him away when the time came to complete the preparations needed to ease the old hobbit into the sling they'd rig between two ponies to carry him in comfort. At last sight, Ferdinand had been comfortably ensconced in a pile of hay in the barn, supervising Mardi and Hilly as they saddled the two ponies they'd ride while carrying the old hobbit homewards.

'Are we about ready?' Pippin asked everyone in general.

'Well I'm not!' Eglantine countered.

'Mother?' Pippin and Pearl said together. 

'It'll take a week to travel to the Smials in a coach!' she sputtered. 'Pony back is good enough for this hobbit!' 

'Five days, Mother,' Pearl said patiently. 'And you've never complained of the journey before.' 

'What use was there, before?' Eglantine said. 'Now you put that waggon away, Isum, or have your hired hobbits do so, and find me a pony I may borrow for the ride.' Her tone brooked no contradiction, as daughter and son and the hobbits who'd known her as the Mistress when Paladin was Thain knew all too well. She eyed the ponies hitched to the waggon. 'I suppose these lovely lads are suited to waggon and plough, but not to saddle.' 

'Yes'm,' Isum responded, meekly for all he'd been head of the Thain's escort under old Ferumbras and one of the few hobbits who could order a Thain to do his bidding (all in the name of the Thain's safety, of course). 

Eglantine went on with her thoughts about the journey ahead. 'Old Ferumbras talked about a road between Bywater and Tuckborough but never got around to building one, all the better to inconvenience the Sackville-Bagginses, I suspect! And your father...' 

'Didn't have the gold to pay for it,' Pippin said, 'and neither do I, so there'll be no road built in the near future, I warrant, Sackville-Bagginses or no. Perhaps we can persuade a few of Lobelia's relations from Harbottle to move closer, that we might inconvenience them with the lack of the road. Hate to see a good bit of bother wasted.' 

'None of your nonsense, now, Pippin,' Eglantine said. 'You're determined to confess to the Tooks that the treasury is empty, and you know what they'll say! They'll suspect you of spiriting off the gold yourself! After all, so far as anyone knows the gold was still there until you became Thain!' 

'Well then,' Pippin said mildly, 'you may put me under the Ban for a year-and-a-day as a thief. I say, it's quite an enticing thought, not to be spoken to for a whole year! Think of how much I could get done, were Tooks not badgering me day and night.' 

Diamond, seeing Ferdi's expression, said, 'My dear.' She was grieved on both cousins' behalf, Pippin's for his carelessness, which she knew he'd rue for a long time to come, as he often did when he spoke his thoughts unreservedly, and Ferdi's for the wound the younger cousin had just salted. For Ferdibrand had lived under the Ban for some years, unjustly imposed by Paladin for Pippin's actions in leaving the Tookland behind him. And Pippin, having exiled himself to Buckland, never knew of the injustice until he returned to take up the Thainship after Paladin's death. Though he'd tried to make amends... how does one make amends for blighting nine years of another's life? 

Pippin was immediately apologetic. 'I'm sorry, Ferdi, I spoke without thinking...' 

'No harm done,' Ferdi said stiffly, dismounting from Starfire and handing his reins to Isum. 'I'll just saddle another pony for Mistress Eglantine, if Isum can spare one, that is, and we'll send a stable lad to fetch it back to Whittacres good as new.' 

'The bay gelding has easy paces,' Isum said, completely and deliberately ignoring the tension in the air. 'I swapped two calves for him after borrowing him to ride to Michel Delving. He's about as cosy as a rocking chair.' 

'Very well,' Ferdi said, directing the words to Isum, and took himself off to the barn where Hilly and Mardibold were saddling ponies and arranging Ferdinand's conveyance. 

'You've got to stop doing that,' Diamond said sotto voce to her husband. 

'Speaking without thinking?' Pippin said. 'I have rather put my foot in it.' 

'He was doing so well, and now you've put his back up again,' Diamond reproached. 

'Stubborn Took that he is,' Pippin said. He shook his head. 'To think I nearly ruined him, and for what? Had he ridden the Rohan in the race under duress,' for at first, he'd tried to force Ferdi to his will, to ride that pony to victory on Pippin's behalf, 'he'd still have been disqualified!' 

As things turned out, Ferdi had later capitulated; that is, he had willingly ridden the fiery stallion of Rohan in the race, though Diamond still did not know the details of the cousins' final agreement. Pippin had then presented the Rohan, renamed Starfire, to his cousin, perhaps as restitution for his unjust dealings. A handsome present, indeed, the most valuable ponyflesh in the Shire. 

Diamond could still scarcely believe her husband's ruthlessness. Though now knowing the desperation that had lain beneath, she could almost understand Pippin's reasons even if she would never have countenanced his actions. Still, she was glad to see his remorse, for it meant he'd taken the matter to heart and was using his new-found knowledge to grow wiser, one of the qualities she had loved in him from the start. 

'What a fool I was!' her beloved was saying even now. 

'Still are,' Diamond said, taking his arm and leaning against him. 'But I love you in spite of it all.' 

The next few moments were taken up with exchanging hugs with her nieces and nephews and listening to last-minute thoughts on the young ones' part, that absolutely had to be spoken now and not held until their next meeting. 

Turning back to their waiting ponies, she was thankful for these past precious days of counsel and rest. Merry might have called it the deep breath before taking the plunge, as she remembered from their time in Buckland, but then the Brandybucks had all sorts of odd sayings that had to do with the River that ran by their homeland. She shuddered a little at the thought. 

'Not taking cold, my dear, I hope?' Pippin said, noticing. 

'Not at all!' Diamond returned promptly. 'And how could I take cold, I ask you! The day is warming nicely!' 

'No sign of rain,' he agreed. And then she might have kicked herself for the reminder her words had provided of the warm, dry weather, for he sighed as his eyes went over the surrounding fields, as if he were once again calculating a scanty harvest. 

But then, she reminded herself, a poor harvest is only the beginning of our troubles. So of course, she added in her brightest tones, 'It'll be fine travelling weather...' 

'O aye,' he said, still sounding more discouraged than she could bear. 

'...for when the Tooks turn you out, and we continue on to Gondor,' she added. She stretched then, lithe as a cat, and bringing her arms down to encircle him on one side and Farry on the other, she said, 'Why, I can practically taste Elessar's welcoming feast!' 

To her satisfaction, he threw back his head and laughed at this picture, and his arm went around her waist in answer to her embrace, and he pulled her close. 

'He does put on a rather marvellous welcoming feast, at that,' he said, nuzzling the top of her head. 

'Well then,' Diamond said, and she ruffled Faramir's curls as the child looked from one parent to the other with a wondering look, as if he thought they might be serious. 

Well, she half-way was. 

'Well then,' she repeated. 'I can hardly wait.' 

***